Sanctum of a Bloom
by Aerophin
Summary: Thrown together into a false marriage on an undercover mission, Yzak and Shiho learn that pretending not to be in love is a surefire way to blow their cover. — YzakShiho
1. In Which She Lies

**Sanctum of a Bloom**

* * *

"_She saw a dust bearing bee sink into the sanctum  
of a bloom; the thousand sister calxes arch to meet  
the love embrace and the ecstatic shiver of the tree  
from root to tiniest branch creaming in every blossom  
and frothing with delight. So this was a marriage!"_

_~Zora Neale Hurston_

* * *

**Prologue**

_In which she lies  
about the nature  
of her assignment_

Squealing in delight, the little girl in Shiho's arms squirmed at being caught. Her twin pigtails flounced as she writhed in annoyance, yearning for freedom.

"Let me go!" she begged through the giggles, pushing at the arms that surrounded her.

"Never!" Shiho laughed, hugging the girl tighter to her chest.

"You're suffocating me!"

With a huff, Shiho set the brunette girl down. The seven-year-old bounced away immediately, preoccupied with the candy that Shiho had bought her.

"You know, there was time when she was excited to see me," Shiho pronounced, walking into the kitchen. She dropped her grocery bags on the counter and turned to the man heating up the stove.

"She's just used to seeing you so often," he replied. Taking out a pan, he poured a few drops of oil into it and placed it over the fire. "Did you bring the fish?"

"Yes, I did, Calech. Can't live without your fish, huh?"

He gave her a grin. "You know me."

She rolled her eyes. "You're my brother, how could not?" She plopped down onto a bar stool and reached for her bag. Inside, she pulled out a letter, worn at the edges and folds, and reread the message for the millionth time. She sighed, tugging at her low ponytail to let it loose. From the stove, Calech threw her a worried glance.

"Calech…" she began.

"Yeah?"

She hesitated. "What if I left again?"

Calech turned around to face her, brows furrowed. "What? Why?"

"For work. It wouldn't be too long. Maybe a year or two."

"Seriously? You _just_ got off that stupid ship three years ago. Don't tell me you're going back."

Shiho shook her head. "No. They want to send me to earth to test new mobile suits."

"Earth?" he proclaimed. "Why so far?"

"Development has been localized at the Carpentaria base. That's where I'll be stationed."

Calech sighed, setting his spatula on the counter. "I don't suppose you plan on turning them down?"

Shiho gave an apologetic smile. "It's not likely."

"Can't be satisfied with a desk job like the rest of us, huh, soldier?"

"Guess not."

"Maselina will miss her auntie."

Shiho glanced at the little girl playing in the living room, oblivious to the world. "She doesn't at the moment."

"Only because we thought you were back for good. You have no idea how worried I was during the war."

"Sorry, Calech. If I can help make these suits better, less people will worry about losing their families in future wars."

He studied his sister for a moment. "Why do you really want to take this assignment?"

"Hmm?"

"You seriously cannot be that excited about testing more weapons or whatever you're going to do."

"Calech, this is important." She couldn't meet his eyes, so she returned to the letter at hand. "We could change the future with these developments."

He sighed and turned back to his cooking. "Shiho, it doesn't matter how advanced a weapon is. You may save your teammate, but your enemy will die."

She said nothing. Couldn't say anything, because she had lied through her teeth. _Better get used to it_, she told herself, folding the letter and packing it back into her bag. She was going to have to do it frequently in the future.

After a moment, Calech asked, "When are you leaving then?"

"In about a week. I'll get more information tomorrow."

Setting a plate of food in front of her, he gave her a soft look before calling out to Maselina. "Take care of yourself, sis."

She took a bite of the fish before her, but couldn't rid her mouth of the bitter taste of deceit.

* * *

**Author Note:** Uploading the prologue to motivate myself to keep on writing. I feel like the whole idea of a fake marriage is a fanfiction cliche, especially concerning Yzak and Shiho, but the idea wouldn't leave me. Maybe I can do it justice? Let me know what you think, I appreciate all the reviews! Also, I intend to keep writing for _Auspicious_ while working on this story as well, so keep an eye out for that one as well. Thanks for reading!


	2. In Which He Learns

**Sanctum of a Bloom**

* * *

_If all the world and love were young,  
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,  
These pretty pleasures might me move  
To live with thee and be thy Love.  
But could youth last, and love still breed,  
Had joys no date, nor age no need,  
Then these delights my mind might move  
To live with thee and be thy Love._

_~Sir Walter Raleigh_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_In which he learns  
that there is more to her  
than he had anticipated_

"You up for a drink?" Mitchell asked, shutting his briefcase with a loud thud. He grabbed the handle and motioned to the door, giving Yzak an expectant look.

"It's only Monday and you're already going to a bar? No, thanks," Yzak replied with a huff of a sigh. He ran a hand through his silver hair while reaching for his own briefcase on the floor. "I should get home. It's almost seven."

"Ah," replied Mitchell, his amber eyes twinkling. "Someone's waiting for you. Wish I knew what that felt like."

"Stop being a jerk around women and you will," Yzak deadpanned, walking out the doors of the conference room. The last minute meeting had been long and tedious, and he was more than ready to relax, but his day wasn't over yet. Just a perk of having two jobs.

"It can't be helped!" Mitchell protested with a wave of his hand as they approached the elevators. "Women just flock to me and my amazing personality."

Yzak rolled his eyes. "The amazing personality that makes you date two women at a time? Please."

"You sure you don't want to hit up the bar?"

"Leave me alone, Mitchell," Yzak threw back, pressing the button for the parking garage when the elevator doors opened.

"You're grouchy when you're tired," he observed.

"And you are far more annoying than usual when I'm grouchy."

"Fine. Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. Yzak was just glad he stopped talking.

When the elevator _dinged_, announcing their arrival at the garage, Yzak bolted through the doors toward his car before Mitchell had a chance to forcefully pull him to the nearest bar. Opening the door, he threw his briefcase into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. He inserted his key in the ignition but hesitated a moment, leaning his head back against his seat.

_Home_, he thought. _I need to get home._

But at home—

There was someone at home. Waiting for him? Probably not, but she was there, most likely nestled on the couch with a novel and some tea, carefully aware of his presence but politely ignoring it. Not that they didn't get along—which they did splendidly, after all, didn't they practically live together on that ship for five years?—but after years of living by himself, walking into his home and having someone already there had been disconcerting.

Despite this, he was still trying to get used to sharing an apartment with someone else. Yzak turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, making his way through downtown Maius Six. It was still bright out considering it was only midsummer, but he was tired, ignoring the now-familiar sights of the city and taking the shortest way back to his apartment complex.

The first few weeks of life together was awkward, to say the least. They'd sidestep each other at every turn, the small apartment in Maius Six offering them little room to live separately. He'd bump into her as he attempted to walk around her, and she would hastily apologize despite it being his fault. She'd drop a book, or some other small piece of furniture, and it would clank to the ground, making a ruckus, and shout a "Sorry!" into the apartment, as if he'd be mad at some little noise.

Figuring out the living arrangement was another thing altogether. There were two bedrooms, but one had been converted into a work office for communication, leaving only one queen-sized bed for the two of them.

"It makes the scenario much more realistic," Deakka explained with a poorly-concealed grin as his image flickered across the computer screen.

Shiho only sighed.

"I swear you set this up purposely," Yzak muttered as he closed communications with headquarters.

After a week of him sleeping on the couch, Shiho pulled the sheets off his body one night, a look of pity in her eyes.

"What the hell?" he had boomed at her, the rush of cold air biting at his once-warm body.

She merely narrowed her eyes in annoyance and pointed a hand in the direction of the bedroom. "Just come sleep on the bed. You can't sleep on the couch forever."

"Are you serious, woman? We're playing right into Deakka's hands."

"And as much as I'm sure the couch is amazingly comfortable, nothing is going to happen if you stay on your side of the bed and I stay on mine. Got it? Now stop having such a big ego and just go to sleep. I'm tired, and not being around you in a while has lowered my tolerance for your whininess." And she had walked away with flick of her wrist, her brunette locks swaying behind her as she turned. With a scowl, he had followed her, trying hard not to stare at her bare legs in the petite pajamas shorts she wore to bed.

He grunted at the memory, but it had worked out. The bed was large enough to comfortably accommodate the both of them without any awkward contact during the night. And it was much more comfortable than the couch.

His thoughts drifted to Shiho. Shiho whom he hadn't seen in three years since she applied for a transfer to a desk job in Junius City, stepping from under his command and out of his life. He hadn't expected to ever see her again, but when Deakka had asked him for a favor, he was surprised to see her name on the briefing papers.

And when he met her again, three years, six months, and fourteen days since she had left the _Voltaire_, he was glad to see not much had changed. The desk job had not dulled her senses, he noted as he stared into her violet eyes, sharp as ever, and he smiled suddenly, because she was still the _Shiho Hahnenfuss_ he had bossed around for some six years. It was easy to slip back into the comfortable friendship they had developed over the years, and the awkwardness had mostly faded away. And for some reason, he didn't seem to mind the small apartment as much as he had when they first began the assignment three months ago.

The lights of the city flickered to life as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex, the looming sign of "Bloomfeld Apartments" welcoming him with passivity. He killed the engine, grabbed his briefcase, and made his way into the building, climbing the stairs to his third-floor apartment.

He stood in front of his door, about to slide in his key, when the door opened of its own accord.

"Hi, Mr. Harnell!" exclaimed a small girl as she stood in his doorway. Behind her, an older woman smiled at Yzak.

"Guess what Mrs. Harnell and I did today? Guess! Guess!" She grabbed his arm and began tugging. Cringing, Yzak clamped his lips tight to not say something he would regret. He could never stand children. How Shiho put up with this girl two days a week was beyond him.

"I'm sorry, Yzak!" her mother exclaimed, trying pulling the girl off of him. "Remy's just a little overexcited today. Remy, let's go, you have homework to do."

"No, I don't! Mrs. Harnell helped me earlier. And then we made chocolate chip cookies and fudge brownies and then we painted—"

"Come now, Remy, I'm sure Mr. Harnell is tired after working today. Let's leave him alone."

Remy pouted, but reluctantly let go of Yzak's arm.

"I'm sorry, Yzak," her mother said. "She just adores you and Shiho."

"It's fine, Lorena," Yzak replied, his hand on the door. The mother and daughter walked back to their own apartment down the hall and he sighed in relief.

He walked through the door, a waft of aroma hitting him. _Shiho must be cooking_, he thought as he slipped off his shoes and entered the kitchen. Then he mentally slapped himself. She stood at the stove, clothed in a checkered apron, stirring a pot of boiling pasta.

"I thought it was my week to cook?" he said as he walked up behind her.

"Oh!" she squeaked, turning around abruptly. He was too close, and so when she bumped into him, he reached a hand out to steady her. Shiho blushed at the sudden contact. "Yzak! I didn't hear you come in," she said when she regained her composure. "And yes, it is your week to cook, but I was getting hungry and you never called to tell me when you'd be home, so I went ahead and made something."

"Ah, sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head. Inwardly, he was cursing himself for not thinking of calling. "Last minute meeting."

"Commander Joule apologizing?" Shiho said with a look of incredulity. "Is the world coming to an end?"

Yzak grunted, but didn't comment. "What are you making?"

"Chicken alfredo. And you can't complain since you weren't here to cook."

"No, it's fine."

"I was about to make shrimp alfredo, but considering what happened the last time you had shrimp on the _Voltaire_, I thought better of it." She grinned at the memory.

Narrowing his eyes at her, he scowled. "That was all Deakka. He knew I was allergic but purposely put shrimp in my food."

"Aw, but you were so cute with your puffy cheeks!" He could've swore her eyes were sparkling when she reached out to pinch him. He slapped her hand away, but she took no offense, her eyes still glittering at the thought of his round face.

"I could've died!"

"You were fine. Stop whining."

Just as he was about to leave the kitchen, he noticed a plate of desserts on the counter. "These the cookies and brownies you made with Remy today?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. How'd you know?" She walked over and picked up a cookie, taking a bite.

"Remy attacked me as they were leaving."

Shiho laughed. "Yeah, she does that. Very hyper, that girl."

"I don't see how you can stand babysitting her."

"I love her! Reminds me of my niece." Her eyes had softened at the thought of her family. Yzak looked away nervously, suddenly noticed a piece of paper tacked onto the fridge. "What's this?" he questioned, moving to pick it up.

Grinning, the brunette took it from him. "That's the picture Remy painted. Look—it's us."

It was them indeed. Two figures, crudely painted by the eight-year-old girl, reminiscent of a brunette and silver-haired man. They were holding hands, a smile painted on the woman, but a scowl clearly visible on the man. They stood on a green lawn, a small house and brightly colored sun in the background. Flowers littered the scene.

"What the heck?" he said when he noticed the expression on his figure.

"I think it's fairly accurate," Shiho said with impish smile.

"Not quite. You're wearing a dress and looking like a woman, I almost didn't recognize you."

She gasped at his insult, then slapped him with a dishrag. "I should've made shrimp alfredo," she mumbled as she returned to her cooking.

He smirked, then said seriously, "Are you ready for tonight?"

"Almost. I've packed most of my things, but there's still a few items I need to make sure I have."

"Get it done," he tone harsher than he meant for it to be.

Shiho turned to look at him, eyes questioning. "I will," she stressed. "Six years and you still think I'm an incompetent subordinate," she mumbled to herself as she turned back around.

Yzak was about to reply. _No, that's not what I meant—_ he thought, but shook his head and didn't say anything at the sight of her back. He sighed and went into the bedroom to prepare. He really was tired, but he still had work to do.

He needed to find his suit for the mission that night. He paced to the closet, digging through the dress shirts and polos to get to the back where his equipment was. He lifted out a suitcase and opened it to grab his suit, promptly closing the case and replacing it. He stood, and his eyes wandered over to Shiho's side of the small closet. They had to share, of course, thanks to Deakka and his miserable plan to make them see their attraction for each other, and the closet was packed full with their clothes. None of it was theirs personally; the whole apartment had been furnished and decorated before they moved in. The pictures on the walls held faces he had never seen in his life, and their wedding photos had all been photoshopped, fake smiles plastered on their faces.

He had only ever seen her in her red uniform, the occasional casual clothes when she was off-duty, and her pilot suit, the one that clung to her skin and let him see all her beautiful curves and what the heck was he thinking? He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and remembered when he had first seen her in something other than jeans.

Their new lives had begun that day. He had woken before Shiho, showered and dressed before she had even left the bed. As he was preparing a small breakfast—_should I make some for her? _he remembered thinking; he did—she emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a red pencil skirt and a loose, white blouse. Her hair had been braided and tucked into a bun, and was that…make-up on her face? Yzak could only stare as she entered the kitchen, his mouth open in surprise.

She grabbed a piece of toast and was about to eat it when she noticed his gaze. She paused, the toast halfway to her mouth. Furrowing her brow, she asked, "What?"

He, realizing his mouth was still hanging open, quickly said, "Nothing," and turned back to his breakfast.

"What? No, tell me!"

"It's nothing, Hahnenfuss."

"Shiho," she corrected him.

Now it was his turn to mutter, "What?"

"Shiho. You're supposed to call me Shiho now. Or did you forget, _Yzak_?" She stressed his first name, a foreign word on her tongue.

"Oh, right." He had forgotten. Years of calling her by her last name was so ingrained into his mind, he still couldn't wrap his head around the word _Shiho_.

It was more than strange; she was always Hahnenfuss to him. He had known several Shiho's in his lifetime, and placing her in the same category with them was odd. Shiho was far too common a name for her, _Hahnenfuss_ being a testament to her distinctiveness in his mind. He seized her up in another glance and decided that, as weird as it was seeing her in those clothes, she looked fairly nice in them.

"Didn't know you even knew how to put on make-up," he said to her as she reached for a cup of yogurt.

"Just because I never wear it doesn't mean I don't know how to use it," she said dipping a spoon into her yogurt.

"You never wore it on the _Voltaire_."

She cocked her head. "No one to impress," she answered as she sauntered off to put on her shoes.

He stared at her as she walked away, wondering what else he didn't know about her after six years of comradeship.

Yzak closed the doors of the closet, casting one last glance at the neat array of Shiho's clothes, and went to prepare the rest of his equipment.

* * *

"It's a simple mission: just infiltrate the company, hack into the mainframe, and grab the file and get out," Deakka spoke, his image on the screen flickering. "Don't linger."

"Got it, Deakka," Shiho answered, pulling up another screen with briefing instructions.

"Have you memorized the blueprints?"

"Deakka, I'm a secretary for the CEO's advisor. He's got me running so many errands, I could practically draw the blueprints for half of the building."

"Just making sure."

"You worry tremendously for someone who set us up for this assignment."

He sighed. "I know. I'm kind of regretting it now, considering how dangerous this might become."

"Tch, nothing worse that we haven't already seen in war. Besides, we've been trained for this, remember?"

"Yeah, but sending my two best friends out into a possible minefield? Why the heck did I ask you both to do this?"

Shiho leaned back in her seat and folded her hands in her lap, raising a brow. "Surely it had nothing to do with putting us in a one-bedroom apartment for several months?"

He grinned then, a cheeky little thing that spread across his face. "Not at all, Shiho, not at all," her handler chorused. His expression turned serious once again. "I shouldn't have to remind you how important this mission is. If Brookman Industries is really manufacturing mobile suits, then we have a potential cause for the Earth Alliance to challenge the Treaty of Hamesuki."

"Against the disarmament regulations lined out in the treaty between Orb and PLANT, I know," Shiho said.

"You ready for this?" Deakka's face flickered once again, but the concern was plainly written across his features.

"This isn't our first mission. I'm more than ready."

"Call me if anything, and I mean _anything_, happens. Let me know if I need to get you two out. Good luck."

"Thanks, Deakka," she replied, cutting off communication. Yzak suddenly appeared in the study, his face set hard.

"Let's go," he said curtly.

She followed him out of their apartment and to the car. It was already packed, their tools and gear sitting neatly in the backseat. Shiho, tugging at her skintight, black suit underneath her casual clothes, glanced at the full moon as she slipped into the passenger seat.

* * *

**Author Note:** And finally I release the first chapter! I'm still working out the direction this story is going in, but I've got it down mostly. To note, there will be some adult themes in this story, but nothing explicit. Read at your own discretion. Also, there's not going to be a lot of attention on the secret agent missions because it's not the main focus of this fic and also because I know nothing about such things. And while it would make sense for Yzak and Shiho to be using fake names, for the sake of this fanfiction I'm just going to keep their names the same, despite giving them a fake last name. Please enjoy, and review!


	3. In Which Things are Going Well

**Sanctum of a Bloom**

* * *

_Happiness does not await us all. One needn't  
be a prophet to say that there will be more  
grief and pain than serenity and money.  
That is why we must hang on to one another._

_~Anton Pavlovich Chekhov_

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_In which things are going well  
or at least seem to be, if one  
only searches for the outward truth_

Moving to shut the blinds, Shiho noticed the mess Remy had left on the coffee table—crayons and small scraps of paper littered the scene, doodles on every available sheet of paper. She smiled, thought of her niece she had left behind, and set about cleaning the mess. Yzak would be home soon; he was freakishly tidy and organized, and the disorder left in Remy's wake wouldn't sit well with him.

She picked up a small drawing by the girl depicting her and Shiho walking through the park, the words "Me and Mrs. Harnell" scrawled in her childish handprint across the top, and grinned. Heading for the bookcase, Shiho propped it against a picture frame of people she didn't know, and noticed a photo album tucked neatly away, white and strangely ornate against the darker hues of the other fake photo albums beside it.

Her wedding album. She, reaching for it, felt oddly sentimental as she pulled it out of its domicile and flipped the pages. She had yet to turn on the lamp, and the fading light pulsing against the window blinds bathed the room in a gentle, dim glow. Taking a seat on the couch, she ran her fingers down the pages, reading the wedding invitation, the save-the-date, directions to the venue.

_You are cordially invited—_

There was a photo of her bridesmaids hugging each other in a row, beautiful smiling faces of beautiful women she had never met in her life and probably wouldn't have even liked. The groomsmen seemed to leer at her with their false grins, holding up glass flutes in a toast to the couple.

—_to the wedding of Yzak Harnell and Shiho Rosenthal—_

How beautiful was the photo shoot. Her dress was a gorgeous, ivory, A-line gown with delicate beading flowing down the bodice to the skirt; her train had to be at least three feet long. A tiara and veil graced her brunette locks tamed into an intricate hairstyle of curls and undoubtedly a million hairpins. Shiho imagined she wouldn't have been able to walk in so elaborate a dress, let alone walk down the aisle. And yet her smiling face was plastered on someone else's beautiful body.

—_on the blissful date of June 22, C.E. 77 —_

He was dressed to the nines, black suit stunning on his lean body. A blue boutonniere sat at his breast, matching her bouquet extravagantly. It was strange to not see a scowl or condescending look on his face; clearly the person making their fake photo album had no idea who Yzak was. And why should they? They were strangers to him as much as the maid-of-honor was to Shiho.

—_at the Grande Marion Resort on Sextilis Eight._

There was one particular photo Shiho always lingered on. It was simple photo, tucked hastily between a photo of Yzak and his fake mother and a picture of a five-tier cake decorated with blooming, blue roses. It was just the two of them, out in the gardens of the resort where their faux wedding had taken place. Her hand was in his, and he had dipped his head down to gently press his lips against her cheek, the bright sunlight casting a glow to their figures. Shiho took in the silver of his failing hair, the brown hue of her image's up-do, and for a moment she could pretend it really was them, marrying for love on a summer day in the bustle of the famous honeymoon district in PLANTs.

She absentmindedly sighed and rubbed her left knee. It had begun to pain her earlier in the day when she was running errands at work. She had taken a fall and landed heavily on her knee when they had infiltrated Brookman Industries a month ago. Yzak, of course, only seethed at her as he pulled her behind a desk when her cry of pain alerted a security guard. The next day, her knee, swollen and red, prohibited her from walking, so she had taken the day off. Occasionally it still hurt when she was overactive.

Closing the photo album, Shiho took a step to the bookshelf and returned the album to its place with a demure smile.

The front door opened, and Yzak stepped through, loosening his tie and grunting as he removed his shoes.

"I'm home," he called out, dropping his briefcase by the door.

Shiho walked to the foyer, a gentle smile gracing her features. "Welcome back," she said, folding her hands and leaning against the wall. She tilted her head to the side and continued gazing at Yzak, admiring him in his sharp attire and strong composure. She eyed the gold wedding band on his left ring finger.

"Something wrong?" he asked, walking forward.

She shook her head, still smiling. "No. Come on, dinner's ready," and she retreated to the kitchen.

* * *

"You're coming tonight, right?" Deakka's hand was on the doorframe, his body turned to leave when he spoke. "You are, aren't you?" he repeated.

"I doubt it," Yzak answered without looking up from his desk.

"What's your deal?" asked Deakka, leaving his post at the door to stalk toward his commander's desk.

Yzak raised his brow. "'My deal'? I don't have a 'deal,' whatever that means."

"You do know what's happening tonight?"

"I'm well aware, Deakka."

"And so you're just going to sulk in your office the whole time we're docked here at Aprilius One?" Folding his arms, Deakka stared down at his friend.

"No," Yzak spoke through gritted teeth, "I'm going to visit my mother tomorrow."

"We have a four-day leave. Go and live a little."

"Leave me alone, Deakka."

"Is this about Shiho?"

"This has nothing to do with Hahnenfuss!" Yzak bellowed suddenly, standing up and slamming his hands down on his desk. Clearly, Deakka had struck a nerve.

The blonde sighed. "Are you just going to let her walk away?"

"What do I care? It's her life. Frankly, it's good that she's leaving."

"You can't be serious!" Deakka cried, unfolding his arms in surprise.

The commander narrowed his eyes. "Does it look like I'm joking?"

"You and I both know she's in love with you."

"And?" Yzak growled, impatient and aggravated.

"You and I both know you're in love with her."

The silver-haired man said nothing for a moment. "Get out," he seethed, his voice dangerously low as he turned away.

Sighing, Deakka walked to the door, his back to his friend. "At least come to her party tonight and say goodbye," he said over his shoulder. "Don't throw away six years of friendship."

"...Fine."

He did end up going to her party, albeit late and in a foul mood. He clambered out of his car and strolled through the doors of the bar, easily spotting the large group of subordinates from his ship. They were gathered about Shiho, loudly urging her to take another shot.

"Ugh, I hate you all," she spoke, but took the glass anyway and threw it back with ease. They all cheered as she slammed the shot glass down on the table, Deakka thumping her back cheerily. He said something to the group that was inaudible to Yzak, and they all laughed noisily again. The commander stood a ways from the group, taking in the sight of Shiho in a dark blue cocktail dress, matching heels on her feet. It was a strange sight, but then again, it was a special occasion.

Suddenly, she noticed him standing by himself, and a smile spread across her face. She walked toward him, and Yzak could easily see the sway of her hips in the tight dress.

"Hey," she said as she came closer. "I didn't think you'd come tonight."

"I hadn't originally planned to," he replied, and something flashed across her eyes. But her smile lit up again, and she laughed.

"You came directly from the _Voltaire_, didn't you?" She poked him in the chest, motioning to the uniform he still wore.

"No," he lied.

She rolled her eyes and tugged on his arm. "Come on, let's join the others."

He reluctantly allowed her to drag him to the group, which sobered when they saw their commander. Deakka, noticing the discomfort that had settled amongst them, cracked another joke and everyone seemed to ease a bit. Yzak said nothing, not used to being so familiar with his subordinates aside from Deakka and Shiho. At least he wasn't yelling at them, he thought.

He didn't drink much that night, preferring to sit back and watch the members of his command interact with Shiho. They were particularly fond of her, he noticed, as they slapped her back and congratulated her on finally getting off the stupid ship and away from _you-know-who_.

_Go enjoy life outside of the Voltaire_, they told her as everyone prepared to leave, _find yourself a man and settle down._

She merely laughed and waved goodbye.

"Take care of yourself, kid," Deakka said before he left, pulling her close to him.

"Who you calling kid?" she slurred as she gave him a hug before he slid into a cab.

She stood on the sidewalk, watching the last of them leave, and rubbed at her eyes, stifling a yawn. Yzak stood beside her, the last two left standing outside the bar.

She glanced his way. "I didn't think you'd stay this late," she mumbled. She yawned again, the action almost making her lose her balance, but she righted herself quickly.

"Come on, Housenka," he said, referring to her with the nickname he gave her. "I'll take you home."

"You have a car?"

"How do you think I got here?"

"But you came from…from the…ship—the _Voltaire_!" She rubbed her eyes again, wondering why it was so hard to focus. She hadn't drank that much, had she?

"I had it brought it to me. Do you want to go home or not?"

"No, no, it's okay," she said, her words blending together. She, blinking to keep her eyes open, waved him off. "I'll just take a cab."

The whitecoat rolled his eyes. "Come on, Hahnenfuss. You'll have to wait for a cab, but my car's right here."

"No, it's fine, Commander," she insisted. She attempted to walk away from him, but her heels were high and she _had_ drank too much, so she wobbled as she moved and would've fallen if Yzak had not reached out to grasp her arm.

He said nothing as he pulled her to his car, making sure she didn't stumble again. The world began to sway, and Shiho, despite her protests, clung tightly to the man holding her up. She staggered into the car and told him her address. He sped off, noticing that Shiho had already begun to fall asleep in her seat.

When they arrived, Yzak got out of the car and headed to the passenger side, opening the door. Shiho, drunk and tired, could hardly stand by this time, so he slipped his arms under her and carried her despite her weak protests.

"Don't throw up on me," he threatened. She only grunted in reply, resting her head on his shoulder.

When he arrived at her door, he set her down, but she was so unsteady on her feet, he quickly pulled her toward himself. He narrowed his eyes, unused to seeing her in such a vulnerable state, and reached for her purse to find her keys. Just as he was about to unlock her door, she leaned uncharacteristically close to him.

"Commander…can I…tell you something?" she began slowly. She continued, not waiting for a reply, "I'm really, really glad you came tonight…I was afraid you wouldn't…" She wobbled on her feet again, and Yzak reached out to steady her.

She bit her lip, her eyes glazed over from the alcohol, and attempted to go on. "I…just wanted to say thanks…for everything. Thanks for being my friend, even if you were an annoying pain in the butt most of the time." A strand of hair had fallen across her face, so she reached to tuck it behind her ear, not meeting his surprised eyes. "You know…I didn't really have a home before I joined the military, but you made the _Voltaire_ like a home for me, so…thanks. And I really like the nickname you gave me…Housenka." Still not meeting his eyes, Shiho grabbed both of his arms to steady herself. She spoke so quietly Yzak almost didn't catch her next words. "I'm...I'm really going to miss you, Commander." Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned back too far.

Yzak made a grab for her and pulled her into his chest, completely astonished at her words. "Hahnenfuss…" he began, unsure of how to respond. But he was saved when he noticed she had suddenly fallen asleep against his shoulder. He was a bit shocked at this development, but he guess she did have a long day preparing to leave the _Voltaire _and then entertaining everyone at the party. He reached behind her to unlock her door, lifted her into his arms, and carried her into her bedroom.

He dropped her gently on her bed, slipping off her shoes, and pulling the sheets over her body. Studying her face, he ran his gaze over the fall of her bangs, the curve of her cheeks, the sweep of her thick lashes. He leaned down to her face and, for reasons he didn't want to think about, placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

With lowered eyes, he pulled back slightly, breathing against her porcelain face, "Goodbye…Housenka," before he left her apartment.

"…hasn't it?"

"What?" Yzak said suddenly, looking up and realizing that he was sitting at the small dining table in their kitchen, a plate of steamed vegetables and grilled chicken before him. The memories from three years ago faded into the back of his mind as reality settled around him.

Shiho tilted her head. "I said, the light in the bathroom's been flickering, hasn't it?"

"Oh, yeah, I think so," he answered quickly.

"Do we have any extra light bulbs?"

"I don't know." He skewered a piece of chicken with his fork and brought it to his lips.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You've been zoned out for the past ten minutes. I've been talking about space cows and mutant tigers and you haven't blinked an eye."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Were you really?"

"No," she sighed. "But you wouldn't have noticed even if I was. What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I was just…remembering something."

"For ten minutes? What's so important that you checked out for ten minutes?"

"It's nothing, Shiho," he said adamantly, his temper beginning to boil at her persistence. "Let it go."

She huffed, then irately stabbed at the broccoli on her plate. "Fine."

She was cross, he noted, as she failed to speak for the next few minutes. Not looking at him, Shiho continued eating, silently indulging her angry side. Yzak frowned. He was hardly prepared for the demanding role of husband, but then this wasn't a real marriage, so why was she so upset?

Images of his mother flashed across his mind, and he realized Shiho reminded him greatly of her. Forced to play so many roles (_mother, father, protector, councilor, guardian, fighter_—), Ezaria had been spread too thinly in her son's life, but he had been thankful for what he was offered. Armed with a fierce determination, Ezalia Joule held the tumultuous cards life had dealt her with finesse and grace and glared at anyone who doubted her ability to play them to her advantage. This quality he found mirrored in Shiho; he admired her for that. When his mother passed away two years ago in C.E. 78, she lied on her deathbed with a smile on her face, telling the world she was happy with her role in life despite its challenges, gave Yzak's hand a squeeze, and went to join her husband.

Something in Shiho's eyes pressed Yzak to rectify things between them.

"So how was babysitting Remy today?" he spoke hesitantly.

"Eh," she shrugged, but only after he stared at her for a few moments.

"What did…what did you do?" he choked out. This small talk thing was hard.

Staring at him with a strange expression, she blinked several times, then pointedly threw her line of sight toward the living room, the mess of Remy's doodles forgotten on the coffee table when she was distracted by the photo album.

"Oh." Then, he spoke, "Was it fun?"

Shiho threw her napkin on the table and rumbled, "What are you trying to do, Yzak?"

"I'm just…I don't know! Trying to get you to stop being mad at me!"

"When have you ever cared about that?"

He felt as if she'd slapped him across the face. "I've always cared!" _In your case, at least, _he thought to himself, unable to voice his words.

She gave him a curious look, staring hard into his deep, cobalt eyes. "No, you don't. That's why you're so careless with your words. You've never cared how others perceive you."

"Fine, you're right," he caved, inwardly sighing. Screw trying to fix things. He could never understand women. Throwing down his napkin, he pushed his plate away. "I'm going for a run. I'll do the dishes when I get back." He stood up and walked to the bedroom, feeling her eyes on his back the whole way.

The bedroom door stood before him. Just as he was about to twist the doorknob, he hesitated. One last shot. "Do you want to come?" he asked, his back to her.

There was only silence. He heard shuffling and was about to give up and enter the room when she spoke a soft, "Okay," from across the apartment.

The disappointment in his chest dissipated as his heart fluttered, surprising him.

* * *

The path wound itself around the apartment complex and through a small wooded area behind the buildings. The rhythmic beating of their soles against the black pavement gave Shiho a sense of calm despite the disagreement with Yzak earlier. They hadn't spoken much since then.

She was still surprised by his sudden invitation. Why had he been so adamant in fixing the tension between them? Being irate at her commander was no strange thing in their work relationship, and he had never bothered to resolve disagreements before. She sneaked a glance at him from the corner of her eye, as if tracing the silhouette of his impassive face would yield answers. He looked in her direction and she quickly averted her eyes. If he saw her staring, he said nothing.

A sharp pain shot through her left knee, and Shiho gasped silently in shock. She adjusted her pace, slowing down to accommodate the dull aching in her joint. Yzak, unaware of her pain, shot past her when she slowed down and looked back, a curious look on his face. Shiho rivaled him athletically; was something wrong? He slowed his pace to match hers, still looking at her inquiringly. But she offered no explanation, and he didn't ask.

Then, after about five minutes of their relaxed speed, Shiho huffed and stopped running altogether. Placing her hands on her hips, she took in deep breaths to ease the pain and limped to a nearby bench. She plopped down as soon as she was near enough and stretched her leg outward.

"What's wrong?" Yzak demanded, now concerned.

She waved him off. "My knee. I'll be fine."

Yzak walked over to the bench and knelt down, placing a hand on her outstretched leg and rubbing her knee. She grimaced and attempted to swat his hand away, but he easily caught her wrist and pushed her arm aside.

"You should've told me your knee was hurting," he reprimanded her.

"It wasn't earlier. I was walking fine."

He placed a hand underneath her leg and bent it to gauge her reaction. She winced at the pain, and he stood up, declaring, "You can't run anymore today. Come on, let's go back."

She stared at him. "What? No, you keep going. I'll go back by myself."

"Don't argue, Shiho. We're going back."

"No, I'll just take my time walking back. You haven't been running lately and I know you like to, so just go without me."

"No, I'm taking you—"

"What's going on?" said another person running along the pathway, nearing them. "Everything alright?"

"Fauve!" Shiho exclaimed as the woman came into sight, her pace slowing down as she approached the couple. "Yeah, we're fine. Just stopped for a rest."

Fauve pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes and knelt down beside Yzak. "What's wrong? Her knee?"

"Yeah. Stubborn woman won't let me take her home."

"I'll be fine! I can walk myself."

"Ah, c'mon on, Shiho, let Yzak be a gentleman and take his wife home," Fauve said, winking and placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Why don't you run with Fauve?" Shiho suddenly spoke. Fauve blinked in surprise. "I know you still want to run and Fauve already's here, so you two can go together."

Yzak seemed to think for a moment. Then he said, "Not before I take you home."

Groaning, Shiho replied, "Only if you promise to run with Fauve."

He narrowed his eyes at her, then glanced at the blonde woman beside him, her hand still lingering on his shoulder. "Fine." He held his hands out to help her stand, then knelt on the ground, his back to her. "Get on," he instructed.

Fauve watched with rapt attention as brunette wrapped her arms around Yzak's neck. She hitched her left leg over his hips, which he grasped and pulled her other leg over him.

"He'll be back," she announced to the blonde with a smile. "I'll make sure."

"Oh, thanks," said Fauve, quickly sliding a smile on her face. It disappeared once the couple's backs were turned, her gaze never leaving their form as they trekked home.

They were a curious couple. Fauve had known them since they arrived four months ago, and it always struck her odd they way the two interacted: comfortable, but not intimate. No matter, she thought with a smile. The man certainly caught her attention, and she felt as if he were hiding something deep at his core and she yearned to be the woman to discover it. She would unravel the mystery of the strange man who looked at his own wife with a deep longing and enjoy herself while she was at it. Letting loose her medium length blonde hair, she combed her fingers through her locks and pulled the zipper lower on her jacket as she sat on the bench, awaiting Yzak's return.

Halfway back to their apartment, Yzak turned his head slightly when Shiho spoke.

"Sorry about the whole knee thing."

He pondered how to respond. Finally, "It's nothing."

"No, I mean it! We could've been discovered that night I fell, and now you have to take me back—"

"It's fine, Shiho," he reiterated, his voice tense.

She sighed. A moment of silence passed. Then she said, "You know, you don't call me Housenka anymore."

He didn't reply. He hadn't called her that since...since the night he said goodbye. He had said goodbye to Housenka, the ace pilot under his command, the redcoat subordinate who merely rolled her eyes when he bellowed at her, the soldier he could trust his life with on the battlefield.

But this was _Shiho_ on his back, not Housenka, not Hahnenfuss. Shiho, the woman who wore flowered flats to work every morning, who drank her coffee with cream and tons of sugar, who giggled with the little girl from down the hall—

When had he separated the two in his mind?

He had said goodbye to Housenka, never really believing he'd see her again. Then suddenly, there he was on an undercover mission, Shiho at his side—his partner, in life and work—and it was like she was a different person outside of her red uniform. It seemed civilian life, even a fake one, could bring out the hidden parts of Shiho he hadn't cared to discover on the _Voltaire_. Perhaps it was time to mesh the two conflicting perceptions of her person together.

He hesitated before asking, "Do you want me to call you that again?"

Her voice was small. "It…it would be nice. If you wanted to, that is," she added quickly. They had reached the foyer of the apartment building. Yzak hadn't let her down as they waited for the elevator to arrive.

"Alright…Housenka."

Shiho blushed when he said her nickname, glad he couldn't see her. "So, Yzak…"

"Yes?"

"They said you brought me home the night of my going-away party."

"I did."

"Oh. There's not much I remember from that night."

Yzak smirked. "I bet."

"Shut up!" she hissed. "I was just wondering…did I say anything to you in my drunken stupor?" They stood just outside the door to their apartment, and Yzak found he couldn't speak, remembering the night long ago when stood in a similar fashion, albeit Shiho in front of him rather than on his back.

She slid off his back as he stayed quiet. Why was he taking so long to answer? She hoped against hope she hadn't confessed her undying love for him or anything, especially considering she had woken up the next day alone.

"You did," he answered at last, not meeting her eyes as he unlocked the door.

"What did I say?" She hobbled into their home, heading immediately for a chair in the kitchen.

Giving a maddening smirk, Yzak merely said, "Just some things."

Her anger flared. "Like what?"

"Well, if you can't remember it, it must not have been important, right?" He was still smirking as he returned to the door, his hand on the knob.

"Why won't you tell me?" she asked angrily.

"Can't, don't have time. I have to run with Fauve, remember?"

Her anger was nearly palpable by this point. She searched for an object to throw in his direction before he was safely out the door.

"I'll be back later, Housenka," he called out as the door shut behind him.

Shiho growled as the napkin holder she had hurled at him bounced off the closed door, spilling napkins all over the foyer. Tch, she had a bad knee. Yzak could pick them up when he came home.

* * *

For reasons beyond him, he felt deceitful as the blonde woman writhed beneath him. Rolling off of her naked form, Yzak gritted his teeth and hastily jumped from the bed, reaching for his clothes.

"Going already?" purred Fauve, clutching the sheets to her chest.

"Shiho's waiting," was all he answered, not even bothering to look her in the eye. He couldn't bear to look at her while they're underneath the covers, couldn't bear to see blonde hair where there should be brown, or focus on that fact that her eyes were several shades of violet too light.

Fauve scowled. Even when he was with her, he was still thinking of his wife. She stood, wrapping the sheets around her frame, and approached him, forcing him to look at her. His cold eyes met hers, and she smiled, trying to elicit some emotion from him. She reached to tuck some hair behind his ear, but he caught her wrist quickly and growled.

"Don't touch the hair," he snarled.

"You didn't seem to mind when—"

"That's different."

He really needed to stop running with Fauve, considering they always ended up this way. It ate at him, this sneaking around, but Shiho wasn't really his wife and he really shouldn't care but it bothered him anyway.

But at that moment, it was all he had and it was better than nothing, because he could never ask this of Shiho, not after everything she's done for him. So he rolled off a woman he didn't care anything for, grabbed his clothes, and slammed the door on the way out.

* * *

**Author Note: **Sorry it took so long to get this out. I was stuck writing the latter part of the chapter. Although I knew what was going to happen, I was just unwilling to write it. Anyway, here it is! Tell me what you think. Not particularly fond of the second-half of the chapter, but it introduces some of the conflict that drives the plot. I may edit this chapter later.


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